


Letters and Journals

by NemiMontoya



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, Closeted Character, Closeted Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, One Shot, Romance, Sexual Assault Mention, War, homophobia mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24651892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NemiMontoya/pseuds/NemiMontoya
Summary: Charles gets a most unwelcome letter
Relationships: Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce/Charles Emerson Winchester III
Comments: 16
Kudos: 38





	Letters and Journals

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you like, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.

_Charles_

Such a day for surprises. After two days in O.R., Charles had dragged himself over to the mess tent for breakfast, expectations low as always, only to find that apples were being served. Red, big, fresh _apples_.

”Look at it! It’s so shiny I can see myself! Kind of like Charles’s head,” Hawkeye said, seated next to him. He peered into his apple, fixing his hair.

”Pierce, at this moment I am too delighted at eating anything with actual nutrients to care about your childish taunts. I shall let that remark slide.”

Shrugging, Hawkeye bit into his apple, and the delighted moan that followed made Charles’s cheeks flush. He averted his eyes, keeping them fixed on his own apple.

The Colonel came up to their table, Klinger trailing behind him.

”I see you boys are enjoying today’s special, cooked up by that fine gourmet chef called Mother Nature. We have our company clerk and his expert trading skills to thank for those. Sure hits the spot after two days of cutting.”

Colonel Potter patted Klinger fondly on the shoulder.

”No sweat,” Klinger smiled. ”Clerk at the 8063rd owed me big. He made some trades here and there, and managed to get me a few crates, fresh off the trees.”

”And that’s not all,” the Colonel said, raising a finger importantly. ”Tell ’em, son.”

Klinger smiled.

”He also managed to get us a movie.”

BJ, who had just joined their table snorted skeptically.

”Well, I guess it can’t be worse than the last few we got. They made _Bride of the Gorilla_ seem like _Citizen Kane_.”

”No, I pushed for something really good and he got me, wait for it… _The Postman Always Rings Twice_!”

Hawkeye nearly choked on his apple.

”Klinger, _please_ tell me you’re not kidding! It just so happens to be my favorite movie of all time.”

”That’s what we got, Captain. And it’s in good condition too. No splices, from what I could tell.”

”See? This’ll be a real treat after all our hard work,” the Colonel grinned. ”Movie will be shown tonight at 2100 hours.”

”Hey, Colonel, this calls for a celebration. This movie deserves to be shown in style,” Hawkeye said.

”Well, why not? We’ll make a party of out it. We’ll roll out the red carpet, we’ll make plenty of popcorn and fix up the mess tent real nice. Swell idea, Pierce.”

Charles watched Hawkeye as he chattered excitedly with BJ about the movie. While Charles himself was not averse to a little cinematic entertainment from time to time - and he _was_ looking forward to seeing the latest selection - he was currently more delighted at the effect it had on Hawkeye. That boyish exuberance, that light in his eyes whenever he could fix his attention on something to shut out the war for just a little while… it drew Charles in like a moth to a flame. At first, he had begrudgingly found it admirable. Later, he had - even _more_ begrudgingly - found it irresistibly attractive. And now he here he sat, secretly watching Hawkeye over the rim of his coffee cup, savoring the other man’s delighted smile as he had savored his apple a moment ago.

Later, in the afternoon after Charles had slept away his fatigue, he woke up to a third pleasant surprise as Klinger came to the Swamp to deliver the mail, on time for once. While BJ gushed over new photographs of little Erin and Hawkeye giggled over something funny in a letter from his father, Charles poured himself some tea to read Honoria’s latest letter.

He chuckled quietly to himself as she described a disastrous performance of _An Ideal Husband_ she had attended with some friends. Apparently the actor playing Sir Robert had been thoroughly sloshed and unable to say his lines correctly. The other actors had valiantly tried to keep the show going, but in the end he had passed out on the stage and the performance had to be shut down. Honoria had found it hilarious.

But what came next was far less amusing. Charles read, teacup forgotten in his hand, Honoria’s recounting of a recent scandal:

” _The Witherspoon family, as you know, is no longer accepted in polite society after all that bribery business came to light last year and old George Witherspoon went to prison. But now, it may be that yet another member of the family could find himself behind bars in the near future: Mark Witherspoon has been accused of sexual violence, and the young girl in question was mere fifteen years old! Awful, isn’t it? That family has always been of a nasty sort. Bullies, all of them. Sarah Witherspoon could never be in the same room with me without insulting me, and I shudder when I think of the stories you used to tell me about what Teddy Witherspoon did to the younger boys when you were both at Harvard. The newspapers are writing obsessively about Mark, so I will most likely have more details when next I write.”_

”Everything all right at home, Charles?”

”Hm?” Charles looked up at Hawkeye’s words. The other man nodded at the teacup, still held halfway up to his lips.

”Oh, fine. Nothing of importance, just… society gossip.”

He put his cup down on its saucer and turned his attention back to the letter. He didn’t know Mark Witherspoon very well, but Teddy… A bully, indeed. He enjoyed tormenting people. Loved having power over others. Charles thought back to that one time Teddy had turned his shrewd, cruel eyes on Charles. The memory still sent chills down his spine.

_But it doesn’t matter. It was so many years ago. I’m sure he has forgotten all about it._

*

In the evening everyone flocked to the mess tent to see the movie. A red carpet had indeed been rolled out in front of the doors - a relic from a General’s visit. Inside, Igor was handing out bags of popcorn, and pictures of the movie’s leads clipped from magazines had been put up on the walls. As the clock struck nine, Klinger fired up the projector to enthusiastic applause.

Charles was seated next to Hawkeye, so close he could feel the warmth from his body.

”I can’t believe I finally get to see it again! When it first premiered, I went to see it five times. Look, here she comes!”

He excitedly grabbed Charles’s arm as the screen showed a tube of lipstick roll across the floor, and then Lana Turner made her entrance, an expression of icy disdain on her face. A cheer erupted in the mess tent, but Charles barely noticed.

His arm was burning where Hawkeye had touched him.

After the movie, everyone went in good spirits to the officer’s club for a drink. Charles sat alone, sipping his cognac and sneaking glances at Hawkeye, sitting with BJ at the other end of the bar. For him, the movie had gone by in a daze. At one point, Hawkeye had leaned closer to whisper some silly joke, and that had left Charles with such a feeling of butterflies in his stomach that he hadn’t been able to concentrate on the plot anymore, and the butterflies had remained there all night.

Swallowing the last of his drink, Charles decided to retire early and enjoy some peace and quiet before going to bed. He could certainly use it. He had almost reached the door when Klinger called out to him.

”Major! I almost forgot, there was another letter for you in the mail. It accidentally fell under my desk when I emptied the bag. I have it here.”

Klinger handed him the letter. A glance at the return adress, and the butterflies in his stomach turned to lead.

The letter was from Teddy Witherspoon.

_No. Please._

_Hawkeye_

The first thing Hawkeye did when he woke up was to look at the clock, and then at Charles’s bunk. It was early, and yet it was neatly made and Charles was already out. Hawkeye had noticed he hadn’t been sleeping well lately. And he’d been acting quiet and withdrawn, too.

Sitting up, Hawkeye lazily scratched at an itch on his arm as he tried to remember the last time he saw Charles getting some real sleep. He had slept well during the day after that two day stretch in the O.R., the same day as the movie.

That had been five days ago.

He thought back to that night. Charles had seemed in a good mood, same as everyone else. Then they were in the officer’s club, drinking. Then it came to him. When Charles was about to leave, Klinger had given him a letter. There had been something in his expression then. For just a split second. Hawkeye had meant to ask him about it, but he and BJ had gotten drunk, and he had forgotten all about it. Maybe Charles had received some bad news.

Making up his mind to talk to Charles when he had the opportunity, Hawkeye tossed a pillow at BJ to wake him, then got up to dress and go to breakfast. The apples were long gone, and the mess tent was back to serving stale bread and powdered eggs.

”Have you noticed that Charles has been acting weird lately? I mean, more than usual?” BJ asked, yawning into his coffee.

”Yeah,” Hawkeye said. ”Something’s up.”

BJ nodded, a frown between his eyebrows.

”You don’t think he’s popping pills again, do you?”

”No, that’s not it,” Hawkeye said. ”Something’s bothering him. I’ll talk to him later.”

He thought back to Charles’s gentle support on that day he had feared for his father’s life.

_I owe him._

And of course, there were other reasons why he wanted to help Charles, if he could.

There was a lull in the fighting, but nevertheless, Hawkeye had a busy day. Father Mulcahy brought in a little girl from the orphanage who had fallen out of a tree and broken her wrist. A fight broke out in Rosie’s and there were plenty of scrapes and bruises to tend to. And then Rizzo had fallen asleep with his cigar lit and burned himself. Still, Hawkeye was always glad when a day had gone by without him having to deal with life-threatening wounds.

Late in the evening, Hawkeye still had not had a glimpse of Charles other than when he was on duty. Deciding to go and look for him, Hawkeye left the Swamp.

”Hey, Roy,” Hawkeye called out to Goldman, who was passing. ”Have you seen the Prince of Boston anywhere?”

”Officer’s club, doc.”

”Thanks.”

It was late, and the club was empty except for Charles and Igor, wiping down the bar and pointedly checking his watch.

”He’s been here all night, doc,” Igor replied when Hawkeye asked. ”He’s down in the dumps about something. He’s been drinking that cognac and staring at nothing since he came.”

”Thanks, Igor, I’ll handle this. You go turn in, I’ll finish up here.”

With profuse thanks, Igor put down his dishtowel and left. Hawkeye went over to Charles’s table, pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down. Charles looked up with a start, then looked around as if he first now noticed the club was empty.

”Okay, what’s up with you?”

”Well, hello to you too, Pierce.”

His voice slurred a little, but it didn’t seem to Hawkeye as if he was too drunk.

”Something’s going on with you. You barely sleep, you don’t eat… okay, I can’t blame you for not eating, but you also barely talk anymore, and for you that _is_ weird. Charles… you can talk to me. It’ll be just between us, I swear on my nudie magazines.”

Charles looked down into his glass, sighing.

”Was it the letter Klinger gave you the other day?”

Charles looked up, eyes wide.

”Did you read it?”

Hawkeye held up his hands.

”Relax, I didn’t read anything. I promise. But you haven’t been yourself since you got it.”

”Well…” Charles let out a joyless laugh. He pulled out the letter from his pocket and tossed it on the table.

”I suppose you may as well read it now. It will all come out eventually.”

Hawkeye picked up the letter.

”You’re sure?”

”Go ahead,” Charles said, taking a sip. ”It doesn’t matter.”

Hawkeye unfolded it.

”It’s from Teddy Witherspoon. We were at Harvard together.”

Hawkeye began to read.

” _Hello there, Charles. It’s been a long time. I’m sure you’re surprised to hear from me. I heard you ended up working near the front, and I was glad to be able to find out which unit you’re stationed at, as I have an important favor to ask._

_I’m sure you know by now that my entire family has fallen out of favor after my father was sentenced and sent to prison for something everyone else in our circles have done at one point or another, the only difference being that my father got caught. Consequently, our name no longer has any weight, and I need help urgently in a matter regarding my younger brother Mark._

_One night he was in the company of a young lady. Perhaps my brother was a little too frisky, but he is a young man and can hardly be blamed for his own needs. And if you ask me, if a girl is willing to go out drinking with a man while made up in red lipstick like a floozy, she had better be prepared for anything. Long story short, the young lady went to the police the next day to file rape charges, and Mark has been arrested._

_Since my own family’s reputation has gone to the dogs, I’m sure I can prevail upon you to pull some strings to help free my brother. There must be something you can do to help an old friend. And if our friendship isn’t enough to motivate you, perhaps I may remind you of that day at Harvard, when you were in the stairwell with William Carrigan, and what I saw._

_I hate to bother you with this matter while you’re in a war zone, but it can’t be helped. My father may be behind bars, but my little brother will not join him. Help him, and I will take what I know to the grave._

_Your old friend, Teddy Witherspoon.”_

Hawkeye folded up the letter and handed it back to Charles, his mouth a tight line.

 _Old friend, my ass_.

”Now _I_ need a drink.”

Hawkeye went behind the bar, poured himself a scotch and sat down again.

”What is this guy has on you, Charles?”

Charles swallowed the last of his drink.

”On the occasion he…” Charles cleared his throat. ”On the occasion me mentions, my friend William Carrigan and I… there was a stairwell rarely used were we would go for peace and quiet. We would sit there to read and talk. Usually, we were the only ones who went there. But on that day, Teddy happened to come by and he saw me when I…”

Charles drew in a ragged breath.

”I kissed him. William.”

Hawkeye stared.

”Oh,” he finally said, after a moment’s silence.

”Oh, indeed,” Charles said. ”Well, Pierce, I’m sure you’re delighted. I’ve just give you ammunition of the highest caliber. Feel free to use it as you see fit.”

”Hey, Charles, I know there were a few times when I hit you below the belt, but have you ever known me to be cruel? I will keep quiet about this, I promise.”

”No, of course not. Forgive me, I… I am quite upset.”

”Well, that’s understandable. Anyway, since you told me about this, I may as well tell you something about myself in return, and why I’m the last guy who’d tell anyone.”

Hawkeye took a swig of his scotch.

”Not all of my lovers have been women, Charles.”

Charles looked up, eyes wide.

”What?”

”You heard me. I date a lot of women, sure. But there have also been men. Out of the few times in my life I’ve fallen in love, two of them were men.”

”Oh.”

”Oh, indeed,” Hawkeye smiled. ”The reason _The Postman Always Rings Twice_ is my favorite movie isn’t all because of Lana Turner, you know. She’s a big reason, but so is John Garfield.”

Charles mouth turned up in a small smile.

”Too short for me. I am more of a Clark Gable man, myself.”

Hawkeye laughed, glad to see a smile on Charles’s face, however faint.

”Anyway, like I said, Charles: you can trust me to keep quiet about this. No one will know, not even BJ.”

Charles hesitated.

”Does he know? About you?”

Hawkeye nodded.

”Told him once when I was drunk.”

”What… what did he say?”

Hawkeye smiled fondly at the memory.

”He said he was my best friend.”

Charles was quiet for a moment.

”I know I can trust you to keep my secret, Pierce, but as I said before, it doesn’t matter. I could write some contacts and pull some strings, certainly, but my conscience will not let me free a rapist. Teddy Witherspoon is a cruel, sadistic bully. If I don’t do as he asks, he will tell everyone out of spite, and my parents will disown me.”

”You sure about that? It’s his word against yours. In that letter he wrote his family’s reputation is shot. His father’s in prison and his brother’s an accused rapist. Would anyone listen to him?”

Charles let out another short, joyless laugh.

”Enough people would listen. There would be speculation. It’s just the sort of thing those people love to gossip about. Eventually, the rumors would reach my father. I know my father, Pierce. When I go home, he will confront me about them. He will ask me to confirm or deny them.”

Charles looked up to meet Hawkeye’s eyes, and for a moment, Hawkeye thought he looked like a frightened child.

”I have never been able to lie to my father, Pierce. Not once. He sees right through me. He will this time, too. Hunnicutt may have accepted you for who you are, Pierce, but my father will not be so understanding. He _will_ disown me. There have been many times I’ve heard him express his disgust for… men like us.”

Sighing, Hawkeye got up to pour himself a refill.

”The only thing I can think of to keep this son of a bitch quiet is to fight fire with fire and get some dirt on him that’s bad enough to keep him quiet.”

Charles shook his head.

”I considered that. But the only information I have is already public knowledge. I don’t think I can find anything out in time. Not while I’m here.”

Hawkeye downed his drink, grabbed the broom and started sweeping the floor for Igor.

”What if you hired a private investigator?”

”The only reliable firm I know of has worked for my father many times. If I hire them, they will inform my father, and he will want to know why.”

Charles scratched the back of his head, groaning in frustration.

”I have been a fool. I should have anticipated this eventuality. No, I _knew_ it could happen, I just didn’t want to think about it. When he saw us, I believed he would tell everyone without a moment’s delay. The expression on his face was positively gleeful. But days passed and nothing happened. Then weeks. He never told anyone. I imagined he just felt sadistic pleasure watching me fret about it. Then, when months had passed and no one still knew, I told myself he had just forgotten about it and found someone else to torment. I should have taken precautions, but the memory of seeing him there and how I’d lived in fear the following days… I couldn’t bear to think about it.”

”I get it,” Hawkeye said, emptying the dustpan into the trash. ”I probably would have reacted the same way. Look, Charles… it’s late. You’re exhausted. I’m gonna finish cleaning up here, then we’ll go back to the Swamp, and you’re gonna try to get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll try to figure something out. I’ll help you. I won’t let this asshole do this to you. I promise.”

Charles looked at Hawkeye, an expression of such naked vulnerability on his smile that Hawkeye felt his heart skip a beat.

”Thank you… Hawkeye.”

”Anytime. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

”Yes.” Charles laughed, and this time it wasn’t joyless. ”I do believe we are.”

Charles helped Hawkeye with the rest of the cleaning up. Then they went back to the Swamp, where Charles crawled into bed with a deep sigh.

When Hawkeye woke up the next morning, Charles was still in his bunk, sleeping soundly.

_Charles_

Having had a good night’s rest for the first time in five days, Charles felt much better. He still could not see a way out of his predicament, but having unburdened his heart and received sympathy and support had been a miraculous relief. And then, there was the matter of what Hawkeye had confessed to him in return. Just knowing that there was another person like him in camp, a person he already knew well, was a source of great comfort. A little voice inside him whispered _what if it could mean more than that?_ but Charles turned a deaf ear on that voice. Listening to that voice was what had gotten him into all this mess in the first place.

Charles had morning duty in post op, but before he left, he spoke privately to Hawkeye.

”I think… if you wish to confer with Hunnicutt in this matter, you have my permission. The two of you always manage your best schemes when you work together, and I admit myself quite desperate. And from what you told me last night, I believe I can count on his discretion?”

”You can, absolutely. If you’re sure you want to do this?”

Charles nodded

”Okay. You’re on duty now, right? All right, I’ll talk to BJ, and we’ll figure something out. He’s been worried about you, too, you know,” Hawkeye said. ”Go on, I’ll see you later.”

Charles left for breakfast, then headed over to post op. Margaret, already there, did a double take when he entered.

”Major, good morning! You’re looking much better today.”

”Better?”

”Well, yes. You’ve been looking a little down, lately,” she said, looking at him appraisingly. ”But better today, like you had yourself a good night’s rest.”

”I did not realize my behavior was quite so noticeable. I have been wrestling with a problem of a personal nature, Major, but I feel better about it now.”

”Anything I can do?”

”No. But I appreciate the offer, Major. Let’s begin our rounds, shall we?”

The wounded in post op were all recovering nicely, and after making his rounds Charles took the opportunity to finish up some paperwork he’d been neglecting. At noon, a waitress from Rosie’s came in needing stitches in her hand after she’d sliced it open on a broken glass. Charles took care of it, then left for lunch when Colonel Potter came to relieve him. He forced down his food, then made his way back to the Swamp, nervously wondering if Hawkeye had spoken to BJ yet.

He found the two of them sitting on their bunks, in serious discussion. BJ looked up as Charles entered, offering him a friendly smile.

”Afternoon, Charles.”

”Gentlemen.”

”There’s coffee in the pot, if you want any.”

”Thank you, I believe I will. The mess tent coffee was cold again.”

He poured himself a cup and sat down.

”Everything okay at post op?”

”Fine.” Charles took a sip of his coffee with a deep sigh. ”Quiet. Corporal Levin and Private Andrews are ready to be shipped off to the 121st tomorrow.”

”Good.”

”Okay, enough small talk,” Hawkeye said, turning to Charles. ”I discussed the details of your situation with BJ…”

” _All_ the details,” BJ interjected. ”And Charles, I will give you my word of honor as a scoundrel: I _will_ keep quiet about it.”

”Thank you.”

Charles smiled sadly, thinking about how the acceptance he was getting in this moment was something he would never receive from his own father, whom he’d spent a lifetime trying to please. He remembered how once he had assured Hawkeye that his father was a good man. That was something he’d always told himself. His father had always seemed perfect in Charles’s eyes. But perhaps it was time to face the facts: it simply wasn’t true.

”…so anyway,” Hawkeye continued, ”we talked it over all morning, and what we kept coming back to was what we talked about last night: we need dirt on this guy, and it has to be bad enough that he won’t be able to risk the consequences of it getting out.”

”Yes, but the problem we _also_ discussed last night still stands: how will we uncover such information in time to keep him from exposing me to the public?”

Hawkeye and BJ glanced at each other.

”Well… we had an idea about that,” BJ said slowly. ”You may not like it, but hear us out: instead of a P.I. like you and Hawk talked about, we were thinking we were thinking about getting the help of one Maxwell Q. Klinger.”

Charles nearly choked on his coffee.

”Are you _mad_? What on earth for?”

Hawkeye held up his hands.

”We won’t tell him the details of what this joker Witherspoon has on you. But Klinger’s family has contacts. Among the… non-law abiding. Digging up dirt on people is their bread and butter.”

”Yes, I know… in _Toledo_. How will they be able find information on Teddy Witherspoon who lives in _Boston_?”

”They network. Klinger told me, after he started getting the hang of the company clerk thing, that the clerks work pretty similarly to the hoods he knows back home. Somebody among them knows people in New York who owes them a favor, and they have in turn know people in Boston. Something like that.”

Charles shook his head.

”I don’t know, I…”

”Charles…” Hawkeye sighed. ”You’re short on time and options. Being stuck here, there isn’t much else you can do.”

Charles rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

”Very well. I am my wit’s end. Let us ask Klinger for help.”

They found said company clerk in his office, a satisfied look on his face.

”Doctors. If the deal I’m working on goes well, by next week we will have enough peanut butter and jelly to last us for at least two weeks.”

”Hey! Terrific, Klinger!” BJ patted him on the shoulder.

”That’s what I’m here for. So, what can I do for you?”

Hawkeye quickly explained Charles’s problem, and what they needed his help with.

”We can’t tell you what this guy has on Charles, but believe me, he doesn’t deserve having his life ruined over it, and certainly not because he wouldn’t help free a rapist. We need good dirt on him, and we need it fast.”

”Klinger…” Charles took a deep breath. ”I hate to trouble you in this matter, especially since I know I haven’t always spoken kindly to you, and I am sorry, but I have no one else to turn to. Could you help me?”

Smiling, Klinger crossed his arms.

”Let me see what I can do, Major. I don’t like bullies, and I especially don’t like rapists. I’ll call my uncle, tell him I have a friend who needs help. I’ll explain the situation. He’ll make some calls. I’m sure his contacts know some people in Boston. I can’t promise anything, but they’ll do their best. If there’s useful information out there, they’ll find it.”

”Thank you. I appreciate the effort.”

Klinger thoughtfully tapped a pencil against his clipboard.

”You say the girl was only fifteen?”

Hawkeye nodded.

”I’ll make sure to mention that when I call my uncle. They hate scumbags who hurt women, and they _really_ hate scumbags who hurt little girls.”

”Thank you again, Klinger. If there’s ever anything I can do for you…”

”I know, Major. But this one’s on the house. I’ll call my uncle right now. In the meantime, try not to worry.”

”Klinger, you’re a prince.” Hawkeye shook his hand. ”Come on, Charles. Let’s go get a drink.”

Charles didn’t bother to point out that it wasn’t even two o’clock yet. He was emotionally drained and he could use one.

In the Swamp, he let Hawkeye and BJ pour him one of their dreadful martinis.

”I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink our home-brew before,” BJ mused.

”I emptied the last of my own bottles the other day. I may as well imbibe your hellish concoctions.”

He drank it slowly, grimacing with every sip, but it did make him feel better.

”Well…” Charles sighed. ”Whatever happens now, at least we tried. Last night I was convinced there was nothing that could be done. I thank you for your support, gentlemen.”

”Our pleasure,” Hawkeye smiled. ”Hey, they’re showing _Postman_ again tonight. Why don’t we go? Get your mind of things.”

”Why not? Sitting here worrying is useless, and I’ve been doing enough of that these past few days.”

”I’ll be on duty in post op, but you two have fun,” BJ said, picking up stationary to begin a letter for Peg.

Hawkeye and Charles brought out the chessboard, and it was comforting to focus on the familiarity of the game. Even though Charles’s playing today was a little more careless than usual, he still had the satisfaction of beating Hawkeye with ease. When he gloated about it, Hawkeye grinned.

”What?”

”It’s just a relief to see you act more like your old pompous self.”

His smile softened.

”I’ve missed it.”

_Hawkeye_

In the evening Hawkeye sat next to Charles in the mess tent, watching his favorite movie for the second time, feeling pretty damn good. He’d had the pleasure of seeing Charles gradually cheer up during the course of the day, especially after Klinger informed them that he’d gotten through to his uncle Abdul, and that he would be on it right away.

Hawkeye hoped they would be able to nail that bastard in time to keep him from spilling the beans about Charles, but if they couldn’t, Hawkeye silently swore to himself that he would make his life a living hell.

He glanced over at Charles, slowly munching on his popcorn. Charles, who so often acted like he didn’t care, but had let Hawkeye lean on him without hesitation when he’d needed it.

Everything had changed that day.

Charles turned his head, met Hawkeye’s eyes and the corners of his mouth lifted in a gentle smile, offering him the popcorn.

Hawkeye wanted to kiss him. He really, _really_ wanted to kiss him.

But Charles was a man and so was he and they were in public, so he simply smiled back, grabbed a handful of popcorn and turned his attention to the screen.

After the movie it had started to rain, and everyone hurried back to their tents under muffled curses. Hawkeye offered Charles a martini, which he again accepted. There was something almost surreal about seeing Charles condescend to drink his and BJ’s gin.

”It is quite horrid, but I must admit it has its uses,” he said, taking small sips.

”Now you get it.”

Hawkeye looked down in his glass, slowly swirling the liquid around.

”So… was he your sweetheart?”

Charles looked up.

”What? Who?”

”That boy you kissed on the stairwell.”

”Oh… William. No, it was just that one time… perhaps it could have been the beginning of something. He certainly reciprocated. But then we were interrupted, and after that we were both too terrified to be in the same room as each other.”

”I’m sorry.”

Charles shook his head.

”It happened. I can’t change that.”

”Still… it really stinks. This world stinks.”

”Yes, well…” Charles held up his glass. ”To a better future. For us and those like us.”

”A better future,” Hawkeye toasted.

He drained his glass, then got up to pour himself a refill.

”And may I ask..” came Charle’s tentative voice behind him. ”…who were the two men?”

”Hm?”

”You said that there were two men you had fallen in love with.”

”Oh, right. Well…” He sat back down. ”The first one was Trapper. I’ve had crushes on other guys before that, sure, but this… I really was head over heels. Nothing ever happened, but for a long time… he was all I could think about.”

Hawkeye sighed. The memory of coming back from R&R to find that Trapper was gone still stung.

”And what about the other one?”

Hawkeye looked up to meet Charles’s eyes.

”I’m not quite ready to talk about him. Yet.”

Charles nodded.

”Another time then.”

Hawkeye smiled softly.

”Another time.”

*

In the following days, while the Swampmen were awaiting the results of Uncle Abdul’s efforts, the 4077th was anticipating another competition with the 8063rd, who had decided that since there was a lull in the fighting it would be a great time to hold a darts tournament. Ten of their best players against the ten best of the 4077th.

This time, Colonel Potter had allowed Margaret to take charge. All the dartboards in camp along with a few makeshift ones were hung up in the mess tent in between meals for training, and no one dared go near it while the darts were flying. Hawkeye and BJ stole a box of rubber gloves, inflated them and released them into the mess tent, giggling like mad at the sounds of loud pops and surprised shouts. This was followed by a quick dash across the compound with Margaret hot on their heels as she threatened to come after them with her whip if they interrupted her training again.

”My players need to practice without you two clowns getting in the way! The tournament is in _two days_ and I will not stand for the the 4077th being humiliated by the 8063rd ever again! I promised Colonel Potter we would win, and I intend to keep that promise, so _stay away_! Is that clear?”

”Mar…”

” _Is that clear?_ ”

”Of course, Margaret. We’re sorry.”

”Would it help if we did some cheers?” Hawkeye offered. ”A cheerleader I once knew taught me some great ones, and we could make pompoms…”

Margaret’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

”Stay… away.”

Hawkeye and BJ slunk back towards the Swamp. There they found Charles reclining on his bunk, immersed in a book. Hawkeye was glad he was able to relax, but he hoped Klinger would be able to give them news from home soon.

Charles closed his book when they came in and suggested a walk over to Rosie’s. There they spent an enjoyable night lazily drinking beer and discussing the odds of the beating the 8063rd. Rosie helpfully informed them the odds of that were not good.

On Saturday two days later, the tournament was held. The 8063rd were pretty sure of themselves, but Margaret had managed to root out some excellent players, and in the end it came down to an 8063 corpsman and - to everyone’s amazement - Sergeant Rizzo. The corpsman did good, but bungled one of his throws. Rizzo made every single one of his throws effortlessly, and as he made his last one he simply stubbed out his cigar and hit an elegant bullseye.

The entire 4077th erupted in cheers. Rizzo was picked up and carried to the officer’s club. Father Mulcahy had made a tidy bundle for the orphanage and celebrated as usual by playing the piano all night. Colonel Potter celebrated by gloating incessantly to Colonel Crocker, and Margaret proudly bought all her players drinks. Charles discovered there was a chess player among the visitors from the 8063rd, challenged him to a game and won with ease, adding to the cheer among the 4077th and hastened the departure of their visitors. Around two a.m., everyone in camp stumbled off to bed, drunk and humming victory songs.

When Hawkeye woke up in the morning, it was to Klinger’s voice over by Charles’s bed:

”Major Winchester, wake up! My uncle called! He solved your problem.”

_Charles_

Through the haze of his hangover, Charles could hear voices. One was Klinger, the other, Hawkeye.

”Whasgoinon?” he mumbled, opening his eyes with effort.

”Charles! We got word from Klinger’s uncle! You’re safe!”

”Really?” BJ sat up in his bed.

Charles shook his head, not sure if he’d heard right.

”Are you sure?”

”Positive. You have nothing to worry about anymore. My uncle told me all about it.”

Getting up, Hawkeye pulled out a chair for Klinger.

”Sit down, let’s hear it.”

Charles sat up, eyes fixed on Klinger.

”My uncle’s contacts owed him a favor, and they happened to know some people in Boston and called them up. And they really didn’t have to do all that much digging. Turns out that family is up to their necks in it. Dozens of shady deals. The Boston contacts got all the paperwork to prove it. Then they dropped in on this Witherspoon dirtbag to tell him all about it, and that he better quit blackmailing old friends. If not, that paperwork would be delivered to the authorities, and not only would the old man that’s already behind bars get years added to his sentence, but this Teddy guy would also be joining him, and they would have all their family’s assets seized. By the time they left his house, he was more than convinced.”

”You’re… you’re really quite sure about this, Klinger?”

” _Yes_ , Major. My uncle said the Boston people kept tabs on him afterwards to be sure. Trust me. He won’t be saying anything about you.”

”And… those other people? Do I need to worry about them?”

”They don’t know your name. They just knew about the blackmail. You can relax now. It’s done.”

Charles let out a deep sigh.

”Klinger… I don’t know how to thank you.”

”I told you, forget about it. Maybe give Father Mulcahy a little something extra next time he’s collecting money for the orphans, and we’ll call it even.”

Charles nodded, a faint smile on his lips.

”Consider it done. Please… extend my sincere thanks to your uncle next time you speak to him.”

”No sweat, Major. Well, I’d better get back to work. I’m glad things worked out.”

Klinger left, and Charles got out of bed, putting on his robe in a daze.

”Charles…?"

He looked up at Hawkeye and BJ.

”You okay?”

”Yes, I… I’m fine, it certainly seems like the problem has been solved, I just… I didn’t have very high expectations, and then Klinger’s uncle managed to fix everything in a matter of days. I have trouble believing it.”

”I get it, Charles. This guy has been hanging over your head for years,” BJ said. ”But it’s done. You’ve turned the tables on him.”

”He’s right, Charles,” Hawkeye agreed. ”He can’t get to you anymore. It’s over.”

He put his hand on Charles’s shoulder.

”You can finally let it go.”

After lunch, confirmation on that arrived from Teddy Witherspoon himself. Klinger came to the Swamp where the three inhabitants were lounging around, and gleefully handed Charles a telegram, which read:

”C _onvinced my brother to plead guilty stop Am no longer in need of assistance stop I beg you please forgive me for bothering you stop Will keep quiet stop - Theodore Witherspoon”_

Charles stared at the telegram in stunned silence, then he burst out laughing. Hawkeye, BJ and Klinger looked at each other, then joined him.

”Oh my… I never thought the day would come when Teddy Witherspoon would cringe in such a manner,” Charles said, wiping at his eyes.

”Hey listen, we gotta celebrate this,” Hawkeye said.

”Indeed. Gentlemen…”Charles took the telegram and the blackmail letter, crumpled them up and threw them in the heater. ”…I suggest drinks at the officer’s club after dinner tonight. My treat.”

”You’re on.”

Charles turned to Klinger.

”You will join us I hope?”

Klinger grinned.

”Happy to.”

Dinner that night was, as usual, barely edible, so the Charles, Hawkeye, BJ and Klinger gathered in the Swamp afterwards for coffee, and Charles treated them to some English toffee he’d been saving. Afterwards, they wandered over to the officer’s club where he bought them drinks, and they toasted to Klinger’s uncle Abdul and expressed their sincere hopes that the soon-to-be-convicted rapist would have a swell time in prison, and that the other convicts would give him a warm welcome.

The officer’s club was quiet, since most people in camp were taking it easy after the previous night’s celebrations. They played the jukebox, and for once Charles didn’t complain about the jazz tunes. They played a few rounds of Scrabble, and although there were frequent discussions about Charles’s words, the evening was altogether pleasant.

Klinger excused himself around eleven, needing a good night’s sleep. The Swampmen stayed a little longer before deciding to retire. The compound outside was darkened, most people having turned in already. Nearing the supply room, Hawkeye nudged BJ, who - pulling out a cigar from his pocket - loudly exclaimed:

”Oh, look! Here’s that cigar the Colonel gave me! I think I’ll stand _right here_ outside the supply room door smoking it for, say… twenty, twenty-five minutes.”

”Enjoy,” Hawkeye said, grabbing Charles’s arm. ”Charles, I think I left my favorite pen in here the other day, help me look for it, will you?”

He pulled a bewildered Charles into the supply room, muttering ’Thanks, Beej’ under his breath, and shut the door.

Charles stared at Hawkeye, standing with his back against the door, blue eyes twinkling, a strange smile on his face.

”Charles…”

”Pierce, what is this? Why are we here?”

Hawkeye’s smile widened.

”Are you…?” Charles crossed his arms over his chest. ”Are you after putting another notch in your belt, now that you know we’re both…”

”No, Charles, that’s not what this is,” Hawkeye said.

”Then kindly explain yourself.”

”Well, I wanted…” He took a deep breath. ”I wanted to talk to you about…”

Leaning his head back against the door, he let out a sigh.

”Damn, this is difficult. Okay… remember the other day when I told you about… about Trapper?”

Charles nodded.

”Remember how I said I would tell about the other guy I’d fallen for at another time?

”Yes.”

”Well…”

Hawkeye smiled softly.

”Who is it, then?” Charles asked, believing he already knew the answer, but dreading it all the same.

”Charles…” Hawkeye let out a short laugh. ”For an alleged genius there are times when you can be pretty slow. I’m trying to say it’s you.”

Charles stared in disbelief. A light, warm feeling started to spread inside his belly.

”Me?”

”Yes, you.”

”But… I thought… Hunnicutt…”

”BJ?” Hawkeye’s eyes widened in surprise. ”BJ and I are close, he’s my best friend and I love him, but… not in that way.

That wonderful smile returned.

”Not like with you.”

”How…” Charles cleared his throat, heart beating wildly. ”How long?”

”That day my dad was getting an operation… I was terrified, and not only did you let me lean on you, but opened up to me. That meant a lot. And I just… started seeing you differently after that. And then, before I knew it…”

The look in his eyes was so adoring that Charles felt his head spin.

”I didn’t want to talk to you about this while you were dealing with that scumbag,” Hawkeye continued, ”so that’s why I didn’t say anything when you asked. And to tell you the truth, I was really nervous. But… now you know. And look, I don’t want to pressure you. If you don’t feel the same…”

Hawkeye didn’t get to finish his sentence. Charles closed the distance between them in two stridesand crushed his mouth against Hawkeye’s. He made a muffled noise, then tilted his head to lean in to the kiss.

”I do feel the same,” Charles broke the kiss briefly to whisper against Hawkeye’s lips. ”Believe me, I do.”

”Lucky me,” Hawkeye whispered hoarsely, a soft expression on his face, before pulling Charles back into the kiss.

Charles closed his eyes and let his lips slide against Hawkeye’s, over his stubbled jaw, his neck, feeling his hands on his cheek, his waist, the small of his back. _Finally_ Charles had everything he had ever wanted in his arms. The world appeared to have melted away and time seemed had stopped.

At least until BJ politely tapped on the door.

_Hawkeye_

Hawkeye spent the following days in a delirious bliss. And frustration. He had admitted his feelings to Charles, found them to be returned, and now he and Charles were together but it was difficult to find occasions to actually _be_ together, as a couple, without anyone knowing. BJ, wonderful friend that he was, tried to cover for them as much as he could when they wanted to be alone, but Hawkeye didn’t want ask him too often, feeling like it wouldn’t be fair. Still, for all the difficulties it presented, Hawkeye felt that it was worth it. _Charles_ was worth it. He was happier than he’d been in a long time.

Then one morning Colonel Potter announced that there was to be a seminar at Tokyo General, and that he’d decided to send Hawkeye and BJ to attend.

”Winchester went the last time, and before that I did, and the time before _that_ was also Winchester.It’s high time you went. Now, I know you boys find these seminars about as interesting as watching cows graze, but just go and then take two extra days to enjoy yourselves. With the lull on we can spare you, and you’ve deserve letting off a little steam. Okay?”

”Okay. Thanks, Colonel,” BJ said. ”I’ve been wanting to buy presents for Peg and Erin, I appreciate it.”

For his part, Hawkeye was glad to get away from camp and have fun with BJ, but he badly wished they could have brought Charles with them.

”I certainly don’t begrudge you a few days of… whatever it is you two enjoy doing when you go to Tokyo,” Charles said later that night as they sat chatting on his bunk. ”Go. Have fun. You deserve it.”

Hawkeye nudged him with his shoulder.

”But will you miss me while I’m gone, Winchester?”

”Not for a moment,” Charles said, then reached down to cover Hawkeye’s hand with his.

The seminar turned out to be _much_ less interesting than watching cows graze, and nothing but a huge waste of time. Hawkeye and BJ suffered through it, then hurried off as soon as they could to go watch sumo wrestling, eat food that was actually fit for human beings, and have drinks at their favorite bar.

Hawkeye was staring into his glass, grinning to himself as he thought about all the derisive things Charles likely would have said about that ridiculous seminar, when BJ tapped the table to get his attention.

”Sorry. I was miles away.”

”Yeah, all the way back at the 4077th. Boy, you’ve got it bad, haven’t you?”

”Pretty bad,” Hawkeye admitted with a small laugh. ”I guess I’m not the best company, right now.”

”Don’t worry about, it, Hawk, I’m having fun,” BJ grinned. ”Actually, you’re acting like me back when I first met Peg. I couldn’t be away from her for more an hour without missing her. You’re smitten, I get it. And I’m happy for you.”

BJ glanced over at the guys at the next table, then leaned closer over the table, lowering his voice.

”At least I could gush openly about Peg to all my friends. It must be difficult, always having to be careful about what you say and do.”

”Yeah, but…” Hawkeye shrugged. ”It is what it is.”

BJ nodded slowly.

”Yeah. Well, we’re going shopping tomorrow. You could get a nice present. I know a good record store, how about a new recording of Schubert, or Wagner or something?”

”Nah…” Hawkeye shook his head. ”I thought about that, but I want want something special. Something… different.”

”Well, we’ve got all day tomorrow, you’ll figure something out.”

Hitting the stores the following day, BJ picked out a silk nightgown for Peg and toys for Erin, and they took care of a few errands for people back at the camp. Hawkeye looked around, but found nothing he really liked as a present for Charles.

Until he spotted something in the window of a bookstore, and had a lightbulb moment.

*

When they arrived back at the 4077th, everyone was walking around looking surly from boredom, yet tense from fear the fighting would start up again at any time. In the Swamp, Charles was snoozing on his bunk, jerking awake with a snort as they entered.

”Oh… you’re back. How was the seminar?”

”Pointless drivel.”

”Well, that would be par for the course. But I trust you were able to enjoy yourselves thoroughly afterwards?”

”Oh yeah, we had a great time…” Hawkeye said, opening up his suitcase. H took out a package, which he snuck inside his jacket.

”…but now after being crammed into that plane and sitting in that jeep I think I’d like to go for a walk and stretch my legs. Care to join me?”

”Certainly. I’ve been cooped up in this tent all day. I believe the fresh air would do me good.”

”You guys enjoy your walk,” BJ said with a wink. ”I’m gonna stay here and unpack.”

Hawkeye led Charles a little ways up the hill to a spot he knew of that was nicely secluded and rarely visited - which well knew, as he had taken nurses there in the past. Checking to make sure they were really alone, Hawkeye attacked Charles, pushing him up against a tree as he pressed their lips together. Charles wrapped his arms around Hawkeye with a shuddering sigh as he leaned into the kiss.

”Hi,” Hawkeye smiled as he pulled away.

”Hello,” Charles whispered, giving him another quick kiss.

”Tell the truth: you _did_ miss me these past couple of days.”

Charles frowned, as if pondering it over.

”Weeell…” He smiled. ”Only every moment.”

”Missed you, too.”

A glint came into Hawkeye’s eyes.

”Got you a present.”

He pulled out the package.

”The perfect book for you: _101 Lewd Limericks_.”

Charles rolled his eyes.

”How charming.”

”I’m kidding, Winchester. Open it.”

Hawkeye watched nervously as Charles removed the wrapping paper. Inside was a journal, bound in dark leather.

”A journal… Why, thank you, it’s nice…”

”Read the first page.”

Charles opened the journal, where Hawkeye had written:

_”Dearest Charles…_

_I wanted my first real gift to you to be something special, something that could express how much you mean to me. I couldn’t find anything that felt quite right, until I saw this journal. In a way, I suppose it’s a gift to us both, as it’s for both of us to write in. Since we can’t be together openly, and can’t even talk about our relationship without looking over our shoulders, I thought we could use this journal to speak privately. I wanted a gift that could express how much you mean to me, and with this journal, I can express that in writing every day. So here’s my first entry:_

_I love you like crazy._

_Hawkeye”_

Charles stared at the page for several minutes, until he finally got out:

”I don’t know what to say.”

Hawkeye laughed lightly, tenderly stroking his cheek.

”That’s a first.”

He leaned over to kiss Charles softly.

”Tell me later in the journal.”

And the next morning, before sunrise, Hawkeye woke as Charles snuck the journal under his pillow. He opened it, reading Charles’s first entry:

” _My dearest Hawkeye,_

_If I could, I would have asked you to marry me._

_Charles_ ”

Looking over at Charles in his bunk, pretending to sleep, Hawkeye smiled and grabbed a pen to write his reply:

” _I would have said yes._ ”

* * *

EPILOGUE

2020

(Newspaper clipping, pasted inside the back cover of Charles and Hawkeye’s journal)

_”The Nonfiction Book of the Year_

_’Dearest Charles…’ is a spellbinding, funny and often heartbreaking read about the romance between doctors Benjamin Franklin ’Hawkeye’ Pierce and Charles Emerson Winchester III, begun during the Korean war while the pair served together as army surgeons in a mobile medical unit near the front lines. In 1952, shortly after the two became a couple, Pierce gave Winchester a journal as gift, which they used as a method of secret communication until the war's end. The book has generated a lot of buzz in the LGBTQ community as a historical account of a relationship between two men during times of war, expressed in their own words. The men’s journal is published posthumously by Honoria Winchester, younger sister to Charles:_

_’The war nearly broke my brother. I believed the thing that saved him was his love for Hawkeye, and yet they could never be open about their love for one another until late in life. It wasn’t fair. Nobody should have to hide like that. I want everyone to be able to see what wonderful men they were, and how much they meant to each other.’_

_’Dearest Charles…’ is available in stores July 27th, on the anniversary of the Korean War’s end.”_


End file.
